


A Quiet Place

by valliereading



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Light Bondage, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Top!Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 01:14:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1326244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valliereading/pseuds/valliereading
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short bondage scene, just the two characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Quiet Place

"No." He mumbles, looking to his left. Unease threads through his voice as he repeats "No, no, no, no, no, no." The words tumble faster and faster through his lips.   
Taking a breath, he looked pleadingly at Stiles, and then toward his own left hand.  
Stiles stepped forward, cupping Dereks' chin, looking into his eyes.  
"No!" Derek insists, straining against the cords that hold him in place, his eyes filled with unshed tears.   
His words are stopped by strong hands, a thumb catching against his teeth and drawing his jaw down. Derek panted out hot dry breaths as Stiles, closemouthed, mimicked his rhythm, inhaling and exhaling quickly through his nose. The beginnings of a smile crinkled his eyes as he dipped a hand in his drink pulled out some ice and popped it into Dereks’ mouth, holding it shut as his captive swallowed convulsively.  
Taking another look at Dereks’ posture, he checked all the cords. Sure enough, the left hand was nearly loose. “Ah, sloppy job.” he thought. Tightening it up he watched the tension flow out of Derek, his face smoothing into peace. Sliding his fingernails up Dereks’ arm he was rewarded with a quick intake of breath. Resting his hands inside of Dereks' own hand briefly, he huffed out a breath. No response to this overture, but Stiles could feel the fluttering drumbeat of Dereks' pulse as their fingertips met.  
As Stiles stepped back, Derek lifted his head, squinting in the deepening gloom of the unlit room. Breathing more easily than before, he lifted five fingers on one hand followed by five on his other. Stiles shrugged, then returned to his seat. The sunset painted the room unnaturally pink, then lavender, and finally grey as the day ended.  
Standing to stretch, muscles protesting, Stiles watched the last few seconds creep by on his watch. Pressing stop just before the beep of the alarm, he walked over to Derek and head-butted him gently.  
Dereks’ eyes opened, his expression widening as Stiles methodically tested and untied each knot with what seemed agonizing slowness. Feet first, lifting and rolling each one pleasurably stretching muscles that had been held immobile. Then predictably dragging a fingernail up the bottom of his foot, heel to toes, causing Derek to hiss as his foot clenched in response. Stiles held back a laugh, and thumped him on the bottom of each foot, waking all his senses.  
His waist was held by a belt, threaded through a rope at the back, kept just a notch too tight. Stiles reached around before loosening the buckle and grabbed his ass, giving a sharp squeeze and rocking his hips forward. Derek growled in surprise, then growled purposefully louder as Stiles’ hands shook at the belt buckle. Once undone, it was slid swiftly through the loops, leaving a trace of burn at the speed of its exit.  
His neck was chained, a thick unwieldy length held together with a padlock. Stiles held up the key, meeting Dereks’ eyes. As the chain fell away Derek lunged and snapped his teeth together, eyes flashing. Stiles jumped back, graceless in his fear. His knees hit the couch and he tumbled over, landing ass first on the floor. He sat, counting the seconds in his head. Minutes ticked slowly by until Derek cleared his throat.   
“Hey.” He murmured, “Hey.”  
Stiles got up, dropping his shoulders, making his attitude casual, the anger shining from his eyes. Derek kept his own eyes downcast and wiggled his fingers, hands were the last to be freed. Instead of the expected, Stiles pulled his chin up sharply, looked into his eyes and smacked him hard on the forehead. As an angry red mark formed and quickly faded Derek slumped, knowing that he had earned the rebuke.  
“I,” he hesitated on the words, looking down and to the side, “I’m very sorry. I’m very sorry Stiles.”  
Stiles pulled a knife from his pocket, the knife Allison had given him for ‘protection’ and sliced quickly through the ropes wound around Dereks' wrists. As they dropped to the floor Derek scooped him up. Stiles managed to limit himself to a minor flail, eyes widened. Cradled, his anger seeped away, leaving the taste of betrayal in his mouth.  
“I’m so sorry Stiles, I wasn't thinking straight, I wasn't fair. Please wait, wait here.” Derek deposited him gently on the couch and walked quickly to the kitchen, glass clinked as he picked out two bottles of water from the fridge and a damp cloth nestled in a bowl of ice.  
He sat facing Stiles.   
“You did so good! Are you sure you want this quick? I could…”His voice trailed off as Stiles tapped a paper on the table in front of them and slapped Derek hard on his bicep. He closed his eyes as he shook the sting out of his palm and then straightened up.  
Stiles focused his eyes on Dereks' mouth, counting down as he reached forward and at "One." tore the tape away from Stiles' mouth.  
"Son of a bitch! That hurt! Fast like a bandaid sucks ass" Stiles clapped the cold cloth to his face and continued to rant, his voice rose on each point. "Fucking wolfing out was not in the negotiation! Dirty trick man, I never agreed to have the shit scared out of me! And you have to use your words, the words we agreed on? 'No, no, no' is bullshit! Did you forget your safeword? I feel like all our planning has gone to shit!"  
Derek interrupted, laying his hand over Stiles tender mouth and drawing out the pain.  
"I said I'm sorry." Derek chuckled, "But it says right here 'Number 8. One surprise move.' You got yours' Mr. Grabby Ass', and I got mine."   
Stiles nodded swallowed hard. Derek relaxed as Stiles mouthed kisses into the palm of his hand. When Stiles was settled, Derek lifted his hand, running it down Stiles' arm until their fingers were entwined.  
"Ready to talk now?" he asked softly, handing over a bottle of water and sipping his own.  
"It's alright" Stiles deadpanned, "I like the quiet." He pushed Derek down into the cushions and curled into him, sliding his hands into the warmth of Dereks jacket.  
"I'm proud of you too." Stiles whispered.   
Derek grunted and dropped a smiling kiss on Stiles' head.   
In the circle of each others arms, they fell asleep in the darkness of the loft.

**Author's Note:**

> The first fic I have written in forever, fun to write-scary to post. Thanks JPatrickLemarr for editing outside of your fandom and sexual preferences! You are the best Dad!


End file.
